Morning With a Side of Bacon
by SilverTurtle
Summary: Without tequila none of this would have happened. Probably.


**A/N:** _So this is a thing that happened. My friend, tumblr user whatrumorstho, had a birthday and we all know what I do when my friends have birthdays. I write a fic for them. She wanted Quinntana smut and she kind of got it._**  
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**Further Note:** _Quinn and Santana are both in college, let's say in their third year.  
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**WARNING:** _This story does have non-explicit descriptions of sex between two consenting adults who happen to both be female. Also, some coarse language._

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**MORNING WITH A SIDE OF BACON**

Quinn woke up with a pounding headache and a dry mouth. The sun from the stupidly open blinds, the reason she was awake at all, seared her eyes so she squeezed them tightly shut in an effort to block it out. She groaned and tried to roll away from the offending light but couldn't. The arm around her waist and body pressed along her side stopped her moving at all.

Shit.

Her eyes popped open, defying the brightness to focus on the mounds under the sheets.

Shit shit shit.

There was another person in the bed. And she could feel the heat of that person's skin everywhere it touched her.

She shifted her right leg just a little and found it pressed against some decidedly bare female anatomy.

Oh.

So, she thought with a little panic, naked.

And those warm lumps she could now feel pressed into her ribcage would be breasts she reasoned.

She lifted the sheets enough to confirm her conclusions so far. Her vision was met with skin. A lot of skin. Her own pale and dotted with dark hickeys she vaguely remembered encouraging. Her bedmate's smooth and tan, bar the red scratches scoring her back that Quinn definitely remembered making when fingers had curled inside her and pushed her over the edge. She dropped the sheet back down to hide herself and felt a blush burn all the way from her chest to the tips of her ears.

_Oh_.

Before she could freak out properly, like she thought the situation warranted, the other body grumbled, "Goddamn fucking windows," in a voice Quinn definitely recognized.

Santana.

Quinn dropped her head back into her pillow, not sure if she was relieved or even more freaked out.

She and Santana had made-out before, a handful of times in high school, but never had they gone this far. She'd always put a stop to it, citing it as 'practice' or just being 'not that into it,' and writing it off as a typical teen experience and studiously ignoring the pounding of her heart and dampness in her panties.

Her heart started to beat faster and harder as a complex series of emotions fought for dominance. Winning out were embarrassment, that this had happened at all, and a weird sense of accomplishment, that this _had happened_. It was Santana after all. Quinn wasn't insecure enough that she couldn't admit that Santana is a sexy woman, she'd often thought so. But it was still _Santana_. The woman who knew all of Quinn's darkest secrets, including the one Quinn only recently confessed and wouldn't let either of them talk about. Santana is her closest friend. A designation that was currently taking on a much more literal meaning at the moment Quinn thought wryly as Santana wriggled and rolled her hips down against Quinn.

Quinn blushed even darker when Santana hummed appreciatively and moved her hips a little more purposefully.

"Santana," Quinn murmured in a quiet voice, a little awed at having another woman's body moving that sinuously against her own but mostly needing that to stop. She shivered when the heat of Santana's core glided along her thigh a left a certain slickness on her skin.

"Shh. Let me, Quinn." Santana hummed again and kept going, she lifted her hands to Quinn's breasts and lips to her neck, clearly intent on working Quinn up right along with her. Not being able to help herself Quinn moaned and lifted her chest into those hands, feeling the warm palms drag over rapidly hardening nipples and fingers gently kneading the rest.

Quinn raised her right thigh and flexed it as Santana ground down and moaned into the hickey she was creating on Quinn's neck. She rolled her hips when Santana brought her own thigh up to press into her center and a soft groan of approval rumbled from her chest.

They continued like this for several minutes, winding each other up, until Quinn felt Santana's fingers skating down her abs and slip between her legs.

"Santana, wait. Wait." She pushed Santana off her and to the side, "We can't."

Santana huffed and flopped into the pillows. "Why not?" she grumbled.

"Brittany," Quinn reminded.

Santana laughed, actually laughed, then rolled back on top of Quinn. "Please, I got her permission last night. She said, and I quote, 'Give her lots of orgasms. She needs them. Threesome when you're both home for summer.'"

"What?" Quinn squeaked, "She did not!"

"She so did and I have the text to prove it," Santana chuckled as she went back to the hickey constellation she was leaving across Quinn's neck and chest. "She's wanted to sleep with you for, like, ever. So suck it up, Cap, and let me love you down."

"Oh God," Quinn groaned and yanked a little roughly on Santana's hair, "Not if you're going to talk like that."

"Ow, bitch," Santana hissed with a bit of a chuckle, "Should've figured you liked being rough."

Quinn rolled her eyes, but the blush on her cheeks belied her front of indifference, "Whatever. You like it."

"Damn right," Santana finished off a particularly large hickey on Quinn's left breast, "If last night is anything to go by a little bit of pain is totally worth your reciprocation." She abruptly hiked her thigh between Quinn's legs again and pressed down.

Quinn moaned. She didn't remember all of last night, the tequila made things hazy but parts were coming back to her, she did remember the way Santana had threaded her fingers through Quinn's hair to hold her in place while she ground up into Quinn's working mouth and thrusting fingers. Quinn was pretty sure that if she looked there would be five small bruises on Santana's right hip where she'd tried to keep Santana still with a quelling hand. It hadn't worked but she'd gotten the result she'd wanted all the same when Santana had shuddered and moaned her name.

The memories were turning her on almost as much as Santana's busy mouth and hands. The lips wrapped around her nipple and fingers moving slickly through her folds were slowly driving her crazy and she roughly rolled her hips up into those fingers. "Santana," she moaned breathlessly, "fuck."

Santana hummed around her nipple, Quinn could feel her smile against her flesh, "What?"

Quinn growled a little, frustrated, "Just, God, fuck me."

"What do you think I've been doing?" Santana huffed with a smirk.

Quinn glared down at her friend, grabbed the hand between her legs and directed it where she needed. "Teasing," she answered, "Knock it off."

"Bossy," Santana licked her lips and shrugged, "Fine, if you want to skip half the fun-"

"Santana!" Quinn beat a fist against the mattress, "Damn it, would you please just make me come?"

"Of course, Cap," Santana smirked, "All you had to do was ask me nicely."

Quinn's whole body rolled up into Santana when finally, finally, Santana thrust those fingers she needed inside and started up a rhythm that was fast and hard. "Yes," she hissed, "don't stop."

"Wasn't planning to," Santana murmured against the pulse in her neck and thrust a little harder.

Quinn huffed a bit of a laugh that turned into a moan when Santana rolled her hips, "Smart ass."

"You like it," Santana let out a moan of her own when Quinn managed to lift her leg up to give her something to grind against.

Quinn threaded the fingers of one hand into Santana's hair, the other hand gripping Santana's rear to guide her more firmly against her thigh, too breathless to make another reply that wasn't Santana's name, a plea to the Lord, or an enthusiastic yes.

They rocked together, straining and pushing against one another, bodies growing slicker by the moment as they worked almost frantically to the inevitable conclusion.

Quinn took in a deep breath and attached her mouth to the salty skin of Santana's neck. Santana moaned and on the next few upthrusts she curled her fingers. Her muscles clenched around those seemingly magical digits and Quinn saw stars as she gave herself over to the pleasure.

When she returned to her senses it was to find her teeth clamped down on Santana's shoulder and Santana moaning Quinn's name as she shuddered in her own orgasm. Quinn unlocked her jaw and soothed the indentations with her tongue, pleased she hadn't broken skin.

"Knew you liked being rough," Santana breathlessly chuckled against Quinn's neck, "That better not bruise, bitch."

Quinn decided she wouldn't be embarrassed by that and lightly slapped Santana's butt, "Shut up."

Santana laughed and lifted her head to kiss Quinn more tenderly than Quinn would have expected.

They breathed each other in for a moment, enjoying the closeness in silence.

They were quiet, sated, and so relaxed they were almost lulled to sleep. But the sound of a chirpy, perky, ringtone broke the silence and Santana rolled off the bed to grab the cellphone off the dresser.

"Hey, baby," she answered with a voice full of warmth and love. Santana laughed, "I did," she cast her eyes up and down Quinn's form sprawled across the bed and grinned smugly, "she definitely did."

Quinn threw a pillow at her which hit her back as she turned to dodge it. Santana climbed back on the bed and straddled Quinn's hips then brought the phone down to Quinn's ear.

"Hello?" Quinn spoke as she raised her brow at Santana in the way she knew had driven the other woman crazy for years. Santana just rolled her eyes, grinned, and poked Quinn's cheek with her free hand.

"Quinn!"

"Hi, Brittany," Quinn couldn't have stopped her blush if she'd tried.

"Hi! Did Santana give you lots of orgasms? I told her to give you lots of orgasms so you'd be happy."

Quinn coughed, a little startled at Brittany's openness, "Uhm, she did, B. Thanks."

"Yay!" she could hear Brittany clapping on the other end of the line, "So now that you know how to give sweet lady kisses you can totally go show Rachel how!"

Quinn's eyes bugged out and she pinched Santana's leg, "You told her?" she hissed, "you weren't supposed to talk about that!"

Santana slapped her hand away, "Please. You know I don't keep secrets from my Britts. And you having the hots for Streisand all this time is just too juicy not to share."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Don't be mad, Q," Brittany said over the phone, "San only told me because she wants you to be happy too, like we are. If you aren't ready you can keep practicing with San and me. We've got lots more to show you!"

Quinn felt her face burning to the tips of her ears as she stared into space, mind lost to imagining what more they could teach her.

Santana laughed and took the phone back, "I think you broke her, B. Mhm. I will. Gotta feed her first, B, she doesn't have our stamina yet. I know. Love you, too. Bye babe."

Santana tossed the phone down on the pillow still on the floor and looked thoughtfully at her former cheer captain. Taking in the glazed look in her eyes and the bright red color stretching all the way down to her chest she decided that the only way to break Quinn out of this was to set some bacon frying.

That always worked.

**THE END**

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**A/N:** _So that's a thing that happened. Please review._


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